CEDARVILLE
REVIEW
26
when I was stressed about the art gallery, I blew up in his face about something stupid like dinner
or bedtime. I can’t even remember why.
Have I changed Adrie’s diaper recently?
He looks happy. Like he was made to do this: carry Adrie, keep an eye on Michelle, walk in step
by my side, enjoy this vacation, then return to the normal pace of repeated messes. He could keep
doing this and be content. Even in this new, foreign environment, it feels like an average day be-
cause we’re doing the same thing we always do at home. Same routines. I wasn’t made for this. My
body aches for something different. My curious feet stumble out of patterned walk, and suddenly
I stub my toe. It cuts and begins to bleed, the red looks the same as the group of tulips to my right.
Before I can even feel the pain, Graham reaches out to steady me. My shoulders expect his familiar
touch. But this physical contact itches, feels cold.
I stop, bracing against his palms. The words are released with surprised ease.
“I don’t want to be married anymore.”
“I don’t want to be married anymore.”
“Dad, can I run to the tree?”
“Yeah, don’t go any further and come right back.”
“Graham? Graham. Talk to me. What are you thinking right now?”
Adrie yawns.
“Please, just say something.”
“I don’t...I don’t know what to say.”
A few feet behind Alayna and Graham, a family of six laughs as they snap a group picture. Alayna